


I'll Flip The Whole World Upside Down

by itsdetectivedeckard



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternative Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Teacher!Bellamy, student!clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 09:25:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6278899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsdetectivedeckard/pseuds/itsdetectivedeckard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke Griffin was saved from the fire that killed her parents by a misterious boy. Years later, she was still strugling to get through life.</p><p>Her current Art History teacher, Bellamy Blake, was not helping at all.</p><p>The title comes from "Show You", by Shawn Mendes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Flip The Whole World Upside Down

There was fire everywhere.

The little blonde girl opened her eyes, the head hurting like hell. She moved her hand above her blue eyes, feeling the blood falling through her face. It took a second for her to realize she was lying on the ground of her house, that was, at that very moment, covered with bright red flames. She could feel the sufocating heat, sucking all the strenght she ever had. Using the last will power she had, she stood up and took slow steps to cross the living room and reach the front door. However, the flames expanded and the path was obstructed and that was too much for a seven years girl to handle. She fell on her knees, sobbing like the child she actually was. What was happening? Where's mom and dad? 

Someone help me!

Suddenly, she heard a yell coming from the door

"Hey! Is anyone there?!"

It's a male voice, but not an adult one.

"I'm here!" - Clarke cried. - "I'm here!"

The young boy burst through the door, holding a used shirt to cover his left arm and another at his face. Clarke could only see his black, curly hair and his dark eyes. She didn't know if his skin was tanned or the smoke and dirty turned it that way. He rushed to the center of the fire, like the fire didn't scare him at all, and he approached her afterwards, carefully.

"Hey, hey, I'm here." - He tried to calm her down. - "You don't have to cry. Can you walk?"

She said yes, but her ankles betrayed her. As soon as she got on her feet, her legs failed. The boy noticed, so he decided to carry her on his arms. He should be a few years older than Clarke, strong enough to lift her with no problems. He covered her body with the old shirt he used in his arm coming in and smiled at her.

"I'll need you to stay awake. Can you do that?"

"I think so."

"Just talk to me. This will be over soon, okay? Have you ever heard the story of Hercules?"

He started walking across the room, protecting her with his own body. She grabbed his gray (and now ruined) shirt and he kept going, never looking back. He kept telling her the semigod tale, aware if she was paying attention or not. She closed her eyes when he told her to and, after a moment, they were outside. She looked at the house, now almost in ruins, and looked at him. He had a painful expression, holding tears with all his might, black ashes spread all over his neck and forehead. When she lowered her eyes, she saw a huge burn that began on his elbow and ended at his forearm.

"You're hurt!" - She exclaimed, now at the floor with him. 

They were both at their knees, waiting for help to come. He still had a shirt over his face. Before he could answer, the firemen arrived in an instant, with the redtrucks Clarke used to love so much, and some of the guys lift them, taking the two away from the danger and separating each other in the process.

The rest of that night was a blur.

…

"Happy birthday, Clarke."

Raven woke her up with a sad smile. She was sleeping on their shared bedroom at the university dormitory.

"Good morning, Rave."

Raven sat at corner of the bed, handing her the gift she bought the day before.

"It's for you. I know you don't like gifts today, but. Maybe we can start changing that little by little."

"Thank you."

Clarke got up, rubbing her eyes. She opened the present and found a silver necklace inside, with a little dear figure hanging there. 

"Rave, I can't accept this. Your father made this, didn't he?"

"He did." - She smiled, now pretty and shy. - "But I want you to have it. My dad would be okay if he was alive, trust me."

She nodded, understanding her feelings. Her parents and Raven's dad were gone and they weren't coming back. The two girls needed to move on. 

She put the necklace with Raven's help. It was truly pretty. She was happy for a moment.

"It's been thirteen years, huh? That we became sisters."

After the fire incident, Clarke was orphan over night. Then, Raven's parents adopted her, once they were good friends with the Griffin's and Clarke didn't have any other family. Luckly, Clarke got along with Raven very well. 

But life was not over with them. Two years after that, Officer Rayes, as Clarke used to call him as an inside joke she had with him, was shot at an alley, chasing a thief. It devasted Raven, affecting Clarke by consequence.

"It seems a life ago."

They stared at each other in silence. They were too young to have felt that much pain, that's for sure. But maybe that was a sign. A sign they were supposed to be strong to go through life. A sign they were at bottom of the pit and had only one way to go: up.

"Okay." - Raven called, leaving the room. - "Time for some classes. Are you ready?"

"Not really."

"Don't be like that, girl. Maybe today you won't fight that Blake guy!"

"Yeah, like if that's possible."

Bellamy Blake was a young (too much young) history teacher at the university. As they would get to know a week after a two hours lecture from him, he was the youngest person that ever tought at Arkadia University. He was cute, sure, but he was freaking annoying. Like if a lined jaw and what must be a billion freckles on his face were a reason for him to be such an asshole. 

He was strict. He didn't tolerate delays, not even a freaking minute, and he constantly showed up with surprise tests, impossible to be done with the short time available. She hated him. And, because of that, added to the fact he was teaching Art History this semester, her favorite subject, she argued with him every week. It quickly became a thing. Their friends didn't miss one class, all wanting to see what would be the discussion of the time.

"At least he'll keep your brain occupied. Just don't kill him."

"I won't promise anything."

…

"Any questions?"

Bellamy asked as he ended his speech. They were at a big auditorium, him standing at the bottom. He was dressed like an old teacher, a light brown blazer on his torso, with matching pants, and square glasses on his face. The class was silent until Clarke rose her hand, making some students chuckle a bit. The teacher smirked, already amused for what was coming.

"Yes, Clarke."

"Just one, to be honest. How do you sleep at night?"

A few classmates laughed.

"The thought of only having to endure teaching anything to you for only three weeks more does the deal, my darling. But why this time, Griffin?"

"You just talked about male contribution for art on this period. Where are the women? Aren't you going to even mention her?"

"They weren't relevant at this history moment, at least not relevant enough to take my precious class time."

God, she already thought he was an asshole, but not a sexist asshole.

"Again, how do you sleep at night? Don't lie to us. You just don't want to talk about important women. Or you don't know them? Shame. A victim of the patriarchy."

"Ok. Everyone!" - He called, now staring at the whole class. - "Since I don't know anything about strong and important woman on art, I want, for next week, a ten pages essay about woman's influence on today's lecture century. If you don't do it, don't bother coming for the final test in the week after that." - He smiled widely looking at her. - "You're dismissed."

What a birthday present.

…

"Today demands celebration, Clarke!"

Clarke was tired for a full day of classes, so her friend's enthusiam was not really welcome. She had her head on the bed pillow, almost sleeping without closing her eyes. And she still had to start writing Bellamy's essay. Fuck him.

"It doesn't, Octavia. Go ask Raven, she'll say the same thing."

"As a matter of fact." - Raven appeared with a dubious look. - "Maybe it'll be good for you."

"Et tu, Brutus?"

"C'mon, let's go! My boyfriend is the owner of an amazing bar, we'll get free booze!"

Octavia's effort was not convincing her, but the free booze was. She could have a drink right now.

"Okay." - She said, against the pillow.

"Okay!"

Octavia didn't even give them time to change, because, her sayings, "you could give up in the process". They were not bad dreassed, that's true, but she could've chosen something more cute to celebrate her birthday. 

They arrived close to 7 p.m., going through the bar to meet Octavia's boyfriend. It was an usual crowded thursday, the place filled with college students, drinking out their sorrows. Some of them were yelling, happy and excited that the semester was coming to an end, and others were just trying to forget the finals were at their door, waiting to screw them over. 

After crossing the room, they met her date at the balcony, a big and scary fellow, with shaved head, some tattoos, but a cute smile. However, that was not what surprised Clarke. Sat in front of him was her least favorite teacher, with a long sleeve gray shirt and black shorts.

"Bell? I didn't know you'd be here."

_Bell?_

Octavia said, after greeting her boyfriend with a kiss. Bellamy faced her, noticing Clarke and Raven beside Octavia.

"I needed a drink and Lincoln promised one."

"And I suppose I'll be giving more than one free beer today." - He stared at Octavia's friends.

"It's Clarke's birthday." - the brunette mentioned, as an excuse for them to drink for free. The bartender seemed to accept it, grabbing three bottles on the back.

"Oh, so even in your birthday you'd fight me for nothing."

"It was not nothing." - She said, taking a sip of her beer. - "It was an important matter."

"Can you be nice for once, brother?"

"Brother?!"

Raven and Clarke questioned together, almost spilling their drinks. Lincoln laughed as he watched the girls confusion.

"Didn't you tell your friends you were my sister?" - He had his right hand on his heart, faking a dramatic sadness. - "How could you?"

"It was his ideia." - Octavia ignored Bellamy, now facing her friends. - "Once I told him I was your friend, he said I shouldn't tell you." - She poked his cheek. - "I guess he didn't realize yet I'm a grown woman who can make friends on my own."

"I wouldn't stop hanging out with you, O." - Clarke giggled a little. - "Just would get confused how you two are any related. I mean, you're awesome, he's the devil."

"My heart's broken." - He joked.

They were all sit facing the balcony, watching Lincoln do his magic to charm the costumers. Octavia didn't seem to care when he flirted to sell some beers, because "this girls will pay our wedding", what made Bellamy choke. They talked for an hour, doing silly birthday (and alcohol related) games. 

Raven was the only one who haven't actually met Bellamy, only knowing him by Clarke's reports, so, when the two were alone, she told her:

"You were way too modest when you described him."

They were at the ladies' room. The mirror showed their expressions while getting a few make up details done.

"What?"

"He's hot. Like, super hot."

"He's not that pretty."

"Clarke! His jaw could cut steel! And those arms…"

"Calm down, Rave. Calm down. So? Do you want to hit that?"

"You should hit that, you moron!"

"What? No way. He's my teacher! I'm sure there are rules against that."

"While you're doing his class, yes, but after that you're free. And that's the problem, huh?"

"Of course not! Okay, he's cute-"

"Super cute."

"Super cute. But. He's still a sexist asshole and I hate his guts."

"You two were totally getting along out there."

"I guess, but that's because he's trying to be nice to his sister's friends."

"Octavia was not even paying attention to us, you liar."

"Shut up."

She finally said and walked away, returning to the balcony. Raven followed.

"I'm just saying, you could use a booty call."

"Raven!" - She exclaimed, horrified. - "I don't do that!"

"You should, idiot. Your last date was, what, in your first year of college?"

"I really liked Lexa."

They arrived at Bellamy's side, greating him.

"I know. But that was ages ago."

"What was ages ago?" - Bellamy got curious.

"Clarke's last girlfriend."

"It has been just two years, okay?"

"Yeah, that's ages ago." - He agreed, drinking what appeared to be vodka and frowning by the taste. Octavia snorted.

"Sure, because you're the one to talk, Mr. _I haven't dated anyone since my college girlfriend dumped me._ Four years ago."

"Oh, you won." - Raven congratulated. - "And wow, you need to get laid."

"Are you offering?" - He smirked and put the cup down. 

"If you play your cards right, who knows. The night's young."

"Lincoln! More booze!" - He added, looking at her directly.

…

"Good morning, sunshine."

Clarke woke with a massive headache. She swore under the covers, cursing all the new and old gods. She was not ready to start her day.

"Let me sleep, Raven. God."

"Sorry, sorry. But you have a class.

"Ugh."

She remembered last night. They drunk like there was no tomorrow but, sadly, there was. Bellamy and Raven hit off pretty well, singing strange songs and talking about dumb stuff. Clarke laughed a lot. It was a nice night, she must confess. Yet, at some point, she got mad with Bellamy, as expected. She tried to figure the whole conversation but all she could hear in her head was the last words she yelled. _You're a jerk!_

"Why did I yell at Bellamy?"

"I think he asked about your birthday. And…" - Raven closed her eyes, to help to remember. - "You told him about the fire incident? I guess that's right."

"How was he a jerk about it?"

"Something about how could your parents let that happen? He was very, very drunk, Clarke. I don't think he should be held responsible for that."

"I know, I know." - She got up and went to their bathroom. - "Did you slept here, Rave?" - She asked wanting to know another thing.

"Yes, Clarke, I did. Relax, I didn't sleep with your teacher."

"I wouldn't care." - She said to the mirror as a attempt to convince more herself than her friend. - "I wouldn't."

…

A week had passed and Clarke was now at the last class Bellamy would be her teacher. The next week would be filled with her final tests, Art History included. So, she was feeling a little nostalgic for no reason, she'd say. It's not like she enjoyed arguing with him each time. Nor she liked his ironic comments. And she definitely didn't like him.

Definitely.

"Good morning." - Bellamy called, using his usual blazer and his usual serious _I'm the teacher_ expression. He was organizing his last class material while speaking. - "So, I was thinking about the essay you were supposed to deliver to me today." - He smirked through the speech, facing the blackboard. - "But I realized I was a bit of a jerk and I wanted to say how sorry I was. Then, to apologize, anyone who actually did it will receive a grade bonus at the end of the semester and, to add, today's lecture will be…" - He paused, writing down the lecture's title. - " _Fuck Patriarchy_."

Clarke smiled widely. What a dork.

"Today we're going to see all the important contribution women made to art. Take notes." - He looked at Clarke's. - "This will be on the final test."

…

"You didn't have to do that."

Clarke was standing before Bellamy as he was putting all his stuff in his case. Everyone was leaving, they'd be the only ones at the class in a few seconds.

"What do you mean?"

He lifted his eyes and brushed his right hand through his curly hair, stopping only at the neck.

"I loved it, but you weren't really a jerk. I liked our discussions."

"Oh, I know, I liked them too."

"So?"

"I was rude to you at the bar. Don't you remember?"

"It's that what this is about? You were drunk, Bellamy. I know you didn't mean what you said."

He stared a her, pausing his hand.

"I meant what I said. I shouldn't have verbalized it, but."

"Excuse me?" - She crossed her arms. 

He went around his table, now being right in front of her. He started to take his blazer slowly, as if he was afraid what could happen if he was too brusque.

"When I was a teenager, some folks weren't cautious enough. They burnt their house with their little daughter there." - He was now with just a black t-shirt and he lift his right arm's sleeve as he speaked. There were black marks all over it, burnt skin, cicatrized through years. - "I was passing by. I don't know if it was luck or God putting me there Himself. But I couldn't let her die. So, yes, I meant what I said."

Her hands were on her mouth. She tried so hard not to cry, but the tears fell even if she didn't want them to. She couldn't stop shaking.

"Hercules?"

That's what she called him all the times anyone asked her how she got away. He didn't give her his name, after all. She hugged him with unusual strenght and buried her face in his chest.

He held her back.

…

Bellamy became more present on Clarke's life after the finals. As soon as he wasn't her teacher anymore, he thought it was appropriate to hang out with her and her friends. Since none of them had anywhere to go to spend the hollidays (Raven's mother would come to Arkadia to be with them during Christmas, but that was it.), they saw each other even on winter break, meeting twice a week at Lincoln's bar. They were there now, Octavia's with Lincoln and Raven was flirting with some Wick guy. Bellamy and Clarke were at a table, alone.

He noticed she was treating him differently and he was not happy about that.

"So, I saw _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ yesterday."

"And?" - Clarke recommended to him the TV show.

"Didn't like it."

Clarke smiled, shy, and said nothing else. That pissed him off.

"Okay, enough. Why are you acting like that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Ever since you discovered I saved you from the fire on your house, you haven't be able to disagree with me"

"That's non sense."

"It's the truth. C'mon! I loved our discussions!"

Clarke sighed, uncomfortable.

"I can't help it. You saved my life!"

"Yes, I did. But I don't want you to be like that for the rest of it. Your strong opinions were one of the things I loved about you."

Clarked blushed a little and shot him a smirk.

"One of?"

Bellamy laughed and sat straight at his chair.

"Yes, one of."

"And what were the rest?"

He leaned in, close enough for her to count the freckles on his face.

"Your enthusiasm. Your stubbornness." - He got even closer. - "Your insanely blue eyes."

He was silent for a moment and she looked at his lips in an instant. He moved foward and kissed her, slowly and tenderly.

"And your boobs. Especially your boobs."

She snorted.

"Shut up, you sexist asshole."

"And you're back!" - He celebrated and kissed her again. - "Oh." - He paused, dramatic. - "And I loved _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ "

"Thank god." - She laughed and realized she was not willing to stop kissing him so soon.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed reading, please leave a comment! I scream like a little girl with them. For real.
> 
> And follow me on [tumblr](http://itsdetectivedeckard.tumblr.com)! Send me a message, I'll love it.
> 
> Thank you!


End file.
